


The vents aren't as pleasant as Clint says they are

by Webtrinsic



Series: Tight Chest & Tight Spaces [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, No Spoilers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Panic Attacks, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Peter didn't mind going on missions with the other Avengers, what he minded was having to crawl through the vents in a crumbling building while unbeknownst to the rest of the team and his mentor: He had a major case of claustrophobia.





	The vents aren't as pleasant as Clint says they are

The arachnid nodded at Steve, his fear hidden behind his mask as he ushered to do what the Captain had asked. Sirens wailed, screams and gunshots were flying throughout the building. And the only real entrance to where the documents they were sent for were obstructed. Clint was too busy keeping the infantry back to climb through the vents, meaning he had to.

But before he could swing off the teen’s arm was caught by his mentor, the red and gold armor looking down at him.

“Careful,” he warned, completely unaware of his proteges claustrophobia but was still wary of the situation. The inventor reluctantly let the boy go anyway, even though something in him knew this was a bad idea. Then again, he always hated bringing Peter on missions. Not because he didn’t trust the boy, he did. Peter had saved his ass more times than once, and had shown himself to be competent. Both under pressure and on a whim, but that didn’t mean Peter didn’t get hurt.

It also didn’t mean Tony didn’t care about the boy, and didn’t stress. He did, he always did. Ever since the minute he reconciled with the boy, Friday had alerted him that the boy had a multitude of injuries left over from the Vulture. And when the kid kept quiet about what had happened, he’d become...protective. He wasn’t one to believe he had any paternal instincts, but Peter...well Peter brought out feelings that could only be described as paternal.

The others even had jokingly called him the boy’s father, Peter always stammered not knowing how to correct them before he just went quiet and hid behind either him or Rhodey. Tony had heard when they weren’t around and the topic came up, Peter would always just excuse himself or mutter something like, “It’s not like that.”

So Tony watched protectively as the boy scuttled up the high ceilings, and then into the vent. The shaft too small for Clint to even fit, another reason for Peter to do it. The boy slipped in, disappearing into the dark with a flash of red and blue. The man of iron couldn’t explain why the image made his chest feel so tight, but he got back to work quickly. A feeling of dread still remaining, even as the boy announced through the comms he got into the room.

The spider hacked into the computer easily, not remembering his trip into the vents because he’d moved so fast. If people were below they’d have surely heard him. But no one had shot the ceiling, at least not that he knew of, so maybe in the same way that he was light on his feet, he was light on his hands and knees as well.

Peter downloaded the documents into his suit, stopping short as he turned to the entrance of the vent and the building around him shook. The teens throat instantly went dry, vision blurring as he stared into the darkness. Mind envisioning dust swirling, toppling supports, and the sound of wings cutting into the air.

“Spider-Man, report!” Steve cut through, loudly. He hadn’t even known they were calling for him.

“I got them,” He affirmed, lifting himself into the shaft even when his eyes shimmered with tears. With stiff movements the spider pulled himself in to the duct, ignoring as his shoulders slid along the walls reminding him of the nineteen tons of concrete that had once crushed him.

Another shake.

Peter’s heart leapt, breaths jumping as the need to breathe began to overcome him. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until his vision began to spot. Head turning until his blurred vision found not an exit, but a small grate.

Peter didn’t care as he shuffled towards it, wanting so desperately to tear his mask off so he could breathe. His fear kept it on though, his fear and identity kept him confined. Another trembling crash echoed down the vents causing the steel below him to tremble and then bend, the ceiling caving in.

The teen’s body slipped, the vent cutting in, the bend leaving him laying diagonally. Hands reaching toward the grate. Toes planted on the floor, leaving him stuck. He nearly screamed, nearly cried, but couldn’t bring himself to move at all or even speak.

“Pete, it’s time to get going,” Tony called through the comms. Expecting an immediate answer, Peter even in a mood normally snapped out of it when called upon by him.

“I can’t,” the teen admitted, a tremor in his voice.

“What do you mean Pete?” Tony asked, softly as if in fear of the answer.

“I’m...I-” As the boy tried to speak, the inventor pulled up the boy’s location.

“I’m coming Pete, I see you,” the man assured, already seeing where his protege ended up and headed over through the carnage as the building continued to shake and tremble earning small frightened whines over his direct line with the spider child.

The comm picking up, “I’m stuck. I can’t move, I can’t-” more sobs, and Tony jetted to the wall. Stopping short at the lack of vent. Until he found the small grate where red finger tips breached and more wails were heard.

“I’m here Peter,” The man assured, metal fingers gently brushing their fingertips together in an attempt to comfort the now sobbing boy.

The soft words of ‘Come on Spider-Man,’ confusing him but the boy soon fell back into more sobs. Echoes sounding, likely the kid trying to move but seemingly discouraged since the hero cried out again.

“I’m going to get you out kid," Tony promised, recognizing the kid was in the midst of a panic attack. More crying met the air, and Tony’s chest panged at the sound. Unknowing of how he’d safely get the boy out, from what he could see through the small intricate designs of the grate, the top of the vent caved in so the compartment was pressing the boy down.

“You’re okay Pete,” he hummed, again running his fingertips over the boys. Smiling weakly when the boy pushed back. Not wanting to take his hand away, Tony spoke to his AI. Letting her set up the lasers to cut the boy out. It’d be a tight squeeze, especially pulling the boy out before the building potentially collapsed on them. But he could do it.

“I need you to stay still Pete, can you do that for me?” Tony asked carefully, the gauntlet on his hand falling away so his own calloused fingertips were pressed against the sleek material of the boy’s covered hands. An affirmative but scared hum followed, and Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The lasers shot out, going over the edges of the the vent's shaft so nothing actively got too close to the boy, before gently pulling at the portion of wall. A pained noise followed, and Tony tried to calm himself. “You doing alright Pete?” The boy didn’t answer, his head thumping against the shaft as his fear and loss of breath sent his vision into a cloud of black spots before the world went black.

The weight surrounding him smothering, confining, suffocating.

In an act of absolute fear, Tony forced his gauntlets into the cracks he made. Tearing the wall quickly, before reaching out quickly to the toppling structure. Arms encasing the spider’s torso and yanking him out, quickly enough to save him from being crushed but not quickly enough to save the boy’s left ankle and foot from snapping at the maneuver.

The worst part being the body didn’t react, he wasn’t breathing but his pulse still thrummed.

“Give me a boost Friday!” the inventor shouted, jetting out of the building as it all crumbled down. The other Avengers outside waiting as he landed and set the boy on the concrete. Pressing the spider emblem so he could remove the mask, the kids lips were white. And Natasha quickly stepped in, taking over in regaining the boy’s breaths because she could tell with the harsh breaths shaking the inventor, he couldn’t breathe for the boy.

In intervals, Steve and the Black Widow checked to see if the boy would inhale or exhale on his own. The suit hadn’t detected a collapsed lung, but the small spider still didn’t seem to want to cooperate with the act of the living. Not until they all stood shocked at a honest to god sob that bubbled out of the inventor, who was holding the boy’s hand. It squeezed, and the boy gasped as Natasha took her lips away. Eyes fluttering open.

Teary until they landed on the inventor, who was too consumed in grief to even look up. Thinking the sound was just Natasha taking in another breath to breathe into the boy.

“Mr. Stark?” the teen called wobbly, the team stepped back as Tony moved and cradled the boy to his chest. Still crying, this time into the boy’s hair as he pressed soft kisses to his hairline. Fingers locked in the boy’s tresses, securing Peter to his chest.

Weak and thin arms wrapped around the inventors waist, the teen sniffling and chuffing.

“Fuck,” the man cursed, “I’m here kid,” the teen simply nodded in turn. Whimpering at the ache in his foot but relishing in the safety of his mentors arms. Tears fell from the teen’s eyes too, brain screaming in alarm that his mentor was crying and it pushed more tears from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Peter croaked, trying to assure his mentor everything was okay, because the tears littering his hair hurt worse than the broken bones in his foot and potentially ankle (He couldn't tell). The older man nodded in response, a soft smile lighting his lips now that the boy was lucid, _breathing._

“Let’s go,” Steve announced, knowing the kid still needed medical assistance and if they didn’t leave now they’d be there a while.

The others were jarred, never having seen the inventor so distressed. So...uncomposed. They’d seen him angry, hurt, drunk, but scared...sobbing. No, they’d seen him at deaths door and he’d barely shed a tear.

But Iron Man was reduced to tears because of Spider-Man. 

Tony looked up at that, arms encircling the smaller body before standing. Not saying a word, as they all packed into the jet. Tony taking a seat with the teen half way on the seat and half way on his lap.

Nat intruded on their space, startling the inventor who watched her with wide eyes as she propped the boy’s broken foot up. They couldn’t do much to the appendage here, the break was odd so they weren’t quite sure how to set it, meaning it’d likely need to be re-broken.

The teen head rested on his mentor’s shoulder, exhausted, eyelids fluttering in an attempt to stay awake.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark,” the boy apologized, his spider sense still hinting at the distress emitting off the older man.

“Don’t, you did good kid,” The older man assured, the files the boy downloaded loading in his own suit. The teen frowned, knowing that wasn’t what he was apologizing for but he didn’t know how to explain it, so he let it go. Tony would only brush him off anyway, telling him there wasn't a reason to apologize. 

Letting his eyelids shut and entering the world of dreams and vivaciousness. The sleeping body smiled because his dreams were not filled with tunneling caves, or enclosed tombs but displayed the open air and the sound of repulsors flaring while the thwip of his webs followed.

_He was on top of the world._


End file.
